


not about you

by pendules



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 01:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11475951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pendules/pseuds/pendules
Summary: It's not fair, really, how Dean can take just one look at him and see right to his very core. See all the guilt and shame and denial and doubt roiling inside him. See how it's been eating him alive, keeping him awake at night. The knowledge that he can tell himself over and over that he's changed but his sins are still going to haunt him forever. There's no escaping them.In which Dean is kind of a dick (but it's for his own self-protection and Seth kind of deserves it), but at least there's angsty kissing.





	not about you

**Author's Note:**

> Post-[RAW 10/07/2017](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daVOGz_lJxI), which was an actual blessing from the wrestling gods.

Dean's still in the ring when Seth gets out and slowly starts walking back to the trainer's room. He's pretty sure he still hasn't looked at him. Not even once.

He's sitting slumped over, an ice pack pressed against his face, pain still radiating all throughout his skull when Dean strolls in, leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest.

"How's the eye?" he asks, without preamble.

It's disorienting, looking at him with the one eye and also just the fact of his presence itself, so he takes a moment or two to adjust his vision and wonder why the hell he's even here. Why any of what happened just did.

"Do you really care?" He thought the 'stay out of my business' warning went both ways, but he supposes it's not really applicable anymore.

"I _asked_ , didn't I?" Dean asked, not as snappish as it might've been. 

So he just shrugs. "It's pretty bad now. But it'll be fine. With time." He wonders if somehow, that's the same prognosis for _them_.

"That's good. Walking around with one eye has to be a giant pain. But I mean, you could always rock an eyepatch. _Pirate_ could be your new gimmick."

Seth lips quirk a little at that, before he swallows hard and looks him dead in the eye. Maybe it's time to cut through all the pretences once and for all. 

"Why _did_ you come out there?" he asks, quiet but intent.

"Why did _you_?" Dean counters, typically stubborn as fuck.

Seth lets out a sigh. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Why didn't you just _say_ that, then?" Dean grits out, actually sounding frustrated now.

"Because I thought you'd get pissed-off," Seth says defensively. "And I was _right_."

Dean laughs bitterly before shaking his head at him, almost pityingly. "I wasn't pissed because you helped me. I was pissed because you think it's _that_ fucking easy."

"I _know_ it's not that easy," Seth says, feeling his throat getting tighter. "I know it's fucking hard. It's _too_ hard —"

Sometimes just the thought of standing in front of Dean and staring him deep in the eyes, seeing every bad decision he's made in the last three years reflected back at him — every despicable, cowardly action, every person he's hurt, every lie he's told — and apologising for them, knowing that he could never, ever make it right, is worse than the thought of losing a limb. Or an eye.

"You say you're working on it, but _are_ you, really?" Dean says, his tone disturbingly calm.

It's not fair, really, how Dean can take just one look at him and see right to his very core. See all the guilt and shame and denial and doubt roiling inside him. See how it's been eating him alive, keeping him awake at night. The knowledge that he can tell himself over and over that he's changed but his sins are still going to haunt him forever. There's no escaping them.

"Maybe you should've just left me out there," he says, his voice thin and weary. "Maybe I deserve that."

Dean shakes his head. "It wasn't about you," he says, finally, dismissively. Almost apologetically. Somehow that makes it hurt even more than if it was deliberately malicious. Seth's just an afterthought to him now.

Dean didn't save him because he thought he deserved it; he did it because, somehow, despite everything he's been through, he's still a good person. The kind of good person that Seth probably won't ever be, no matter how much he plays it up for the crowd. It's all a facade. He thought he might be able to fake it into reality if he tried hard enough. But it doesn't work with Dean. He's always been able to see right through his bullshit.

That's why this, _all_ of this, is so fucking difficult to even begin to navigate.

Seth lowers the ice pack from his eye and looks — well, _squints_ up at him.

Dean comes closer, until he's standing right in front of him, looking down at him, head slightly tilted.

"You look like shit," Dean says, like it's just a casual observation.

"Thanks," he says dryly.

"It wasn't _about_ you," Dean says again, voice low and harsher this time, like he's trying to drive the knife in deeper. Maybe _this_ is his real punishment, maybe this is what he deserves: Dean not giving a shit about him one way or the other anymore. That's the real nightmare.

But then he gets even closer, basically standing between his legs, face inches away from his own. Seth holds his breath. Dean slowly raises a hand up, rests it gently on the side of his face.

" _It wasn't about you_ ," he repeats, every word clearly articulated. And there's a war raging in his eyes now. It's like he's trying to convince himself more than anything. Maybe Seth's not the only one who knows a thing or two about denial.

Seth just stares at him, his good eye wide and unblinking, his lips slightly parted. Expectant. Waiting. Time all but standing still between them.

And then Dean's leaning in, before Seth can register what's happening, and kissing him, fast and rough, their noses mashed together, teeth getting in the way. Seth makes an embarrassing moan in his throat, his eyes closed, Dean's mouth warm and full and eager on his own — and then the pressure's gone just like that.

It's over before he even realises it, like he imagined the whole thing. And then Dean's walking away from him and out of the room. Like it didn't happen at all. He doesn't glance back, doesn't look at him at all. Just like before. He just leaves him there, staring wild-eyed and breathless into empty space.


End file.
